The Jabberjay's Nest: The 99th Hunger Games
by Elena Nightbreaker
Summary: Takes place in District 7  Lumber   Paper . About a girl who goes into the Hunger Games and befriends a jabberjay in the arena when she is starving. The jabberjay leads her to an ally who saves her from starvation.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The dawn light filters through the tiny, filthy window and a chilly breeze sneaks through cracks in wall, raising dust from the floor. My little brother, Talon, jumps on me yelling, "Opal, Opal! Wake up! It's the reaping today!" Then he runs off. Talon is eight and doesn't yet understand that the reaping sends whoever's chosen to almost certain death. He doesn't know that if I get chosen, I'll probably never come back alive. He pretty much thinks it's a celebration.

Slowly I extract myself from the warm wool cocoon of blankets, feeling the frost-laden air bite at my toes and nose. Finally into a relatively upright position, I fumble around behind me and drag a blanket off the bed. I wrap it around my shoulders like a cape and wander into the adjoining room where my mother is making breakfast. "Hurry up and eat," she says, all business, as usual. "The reaping starts in half an hour and you still have to get ready."

I grab a piece of bread and wolf it down, then run the bedroom and slip into my reaping outfit. It's a relatively simple red dress that reaches my knees. It was my mother's, and it's well-loved. After some consideration, I pull my hazelnut-brown hair back into a ponytail and tie it with a hair ribbon the exact color of my dress. I'm not very fond of ribbons, they're always coming untied. Then I tug on black boots that squish my toes and walk painfully back to the kitchen. "Okay, I'm ready. Let's go."

Outside, it's a typical District 7 morning, except that instead of everybody going to work, they're all going to town. The trees glitter with dew, and somewhere a mourning dove sings. My mother leads Talon and I follow behind them. My father will already be at the town square; he left early this morning to help set up. It's about a 20-minute walk to the town. Once we arrive, I'm separated from my family and herded into roped off area for 17-year-old girls. There's actually not very many of us, but we're all huddled into a corner. I spot my friend Marka and join her in the group. To the right of our pen are the 17-year-old boys. In front of our section are the 16-year-old girls. The boys next to us, who we know from school, usually joke around a lot. But today they are silent and grim. I break away from the pack of girls and walk a few steps to the rope boundary between us and the boys. I search the crowd for a certain white-blonde head. My lifelong friend Gabriel sees me and we meet at the rope. "Only one more year left after this," he says, his brown eyes, so much like mine, twinkling. "We've survived this long."

"Yeah," I say. "Who knows, maybe this'll be the year one of us get's chosen."

"You look pretty today," he says, his hand reaching for mine. Gabriel's finger's close around mine, squeeze, and then he's let go and disappeared into the crowd. The little touch only lasted a few seconds, but I felt every callus, every scar on his hand. I look down at my own, so smooth and tan with overlong fingernails filled with dirt. District 7's profession is lumber and paper, and while Gabriel goes and cuts down trees everyday, I plant seedlings. In the process of examining my hands, something on the ground catches my attention, a small green drawstring pouch embroidered with trees. I bend down and pick it up. Opening it, the first thing I touch is a slip of paper. In Gabriel's scrawl, a note reads:

_You're gorgeous today, as always. This gemstone reminds me so much of you: it's elegant, beautiful, and overall perfect. I hope that if you get chosen, you'll take this into the arena with you._

_I love you today, yesterday, tomorrow, and forever._

_Gabriel_

I hadn't noticed I've been crying until a tear drips down my cheek, and I hasten to wipe it away. _This gemstone_… I upend the pouch into my palm, and a small opal, as small as my thumbnail, falls out. I stare at it; it's all I can do. Where could have Gabriel have gotten this? Nobody in the whole District, except maybe the mayor, could have afforded this.

Where Gabriel got the opal is insignificant now, because as soon as District 7's mayor taps the microphone for everyone's attention, all eyes are on the stage in front of the Justice Building. He goes on to explain the significance of the Hunger Games and introduces us to the district's past victors, which there are about fifteen of. It's what I've been hearing for as long as I can remember. All I pay attention to is the small gemstone in my hand until our district's escort steps up the microphone. The escort, an overly cheerful woman with floor-length turquoise hair, light blue skin, silver eye shadow, ridiculously high-heeled shoes, and creepy black lipstick named Anneleigh, introduces us to herself, and then starts the reaping. She draws the boy tribute first. Some kid who's name I miss gets chosen. I don't get a good look at him until he's on the stage. He's pudgy, and sort of young, maybe a year or two younger than me. He looks lazy, the kind of kid who's not a good student. The odds are very, very bad for him. "Any volunteers?" Anneleigh asks to the crowd.

"My name is Jae Zenalite and I volunteer!"

The call is from behind. Me, along with everyone else in my group, turn to see who volunteered. Jae is a year older than me, strong and muscular. His hair is dark brown and so are his eyes, darker versions of my own features. I vaguely recognize him from school, and all that I know about him is that he's a little ignorant. He'll be a hit in the Capitol with his looks. He charges onto the stage and the other kid shuffles back into the audience.

Next is the female tribute. Anneleigh reaches into the huge glass ball that contains the names of every girl between the ages of 12 and 18, most whose names are in there more than once, and picks a random slip of paper. She reads the name into the microphone:

"Opal Hunter."

_What? That's me! But I can't go! What about Gabriel and little Talon? I can't go to the Hunger Games!_

"Opal Hunter," she reads again, "Please come forward."

Taking a deep breath, I walk carefully up to the stage. I know everybody is watching me, and I'm trying not to pass out. The only thing I see is the stage in front of me. All I feel is the uneven paving bricks beneath me feet. My ears are filled with white noise; if the audience is saying something, I can't hear them. Once on the stage, I look out at the crowd. Certain faces leap out at me: my mother, shocked. Talon, excited, and Gabriel scared.

"Ladies and gentlemen, allow me present to you the District 7 tributes for the ninety-ninth Hunger Games: Jae Zenalite and Opal Hunter!" Anneleigh announces. I can barely hear her, though, because _the Hunger Games, the Hunger Games, the Hunger Games, the Hunger Games,_ keep circling through my head.

The next thing I know, I am shunted inside the Justice Building. I will have a little bit of time to say goodbye to family and friends, then they'll get me on a train to be taken to the Capitol.

My mother, father, and brother come first. Talon climbs onto my knees and my mother bursts into tears. My father is obviously trying not to cry. Very little is said, mostly just hugs. Peacekeepers come to take them, and with a kiss on the cheek they're gone and I may never see them again.

Misty, my older sister, comes next. She's twenty-five years old and already has a husband, Alon, but I don't know him well. They're expecting a child. I hope I live to see it. Misty hugs me and wishes me good luck; we've never been close. They're about to leave when I run and give Alon a hug, too.

Then Marka comes in, bawling openly. I start sniffling, and then we're sitting on the ground, arms around each other, wailing. The peacekeepers lead her out after a few minutes, and then Gabriel comes in. In the doorway, he freezes, watching me intently. My eyes are still overflowing with tears and I stare at him with a watery gaze, taking in every detail. His sleek white-blonde hair, deep brown eyes, and work-worn hands. Silently he walks over and kneels beside me. Gabriel pulls me onto his lap and we sit there. Gently, he strokes my hair. I murmur, "Thank you."

Gabriel smiles in reply. "You'll come back, I know you will. And then we can forget about this whole stupid mess," he says softly. Our lips brush together for a split second, and then he disappears, as suddenly and noiselessly as he had out in the town square.

"I love you." My whisper is a second too late.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Almost before I know it, I'm escorted to the train station and onto the train that will take me to the Capitol. I'm led into the dining compartment to find Anneleigh, Jae, and two other people I don't recognize. The two, a strong-looking woman and a man, nod at me in greeting. The woman has the normal District Seven look about her: brown hair and brown eyes; her hair is streaked with silver. The man has the same brown hair and brown eyes as the woman, but his hair is closer to white. He's a little round around the middle, but looks perfectly friendly.

"Ah, Opal, there you are!" coos Anneleigh. "We were about to start the introductions without you! This is Themis, she's going to be your mentor," she says, indicating the woman, who smiles at me and shakes my hand. "And the man is Donovan, Jae's mentor."

So, Themis and Donovan as our mentors. Looking closer, I think they look just a touch familiar, from past reapings.

"Opal and Jae, you two need to go get changed for dinner, "Anneleigh commands. "Meet back here in ten minutes, then we'll eat."

A Capitol servant called an Avox shows me to my compartment, and then waits outside. I enter, finding it surprising fancy. There's a bed with a silvery canopy and a midnight blue comforter and pillows, a large closet, and at the far end I can see a bathroom. I open the wardrobe to find it fully stocked with clothes, most of which I'll never wear. There's a note taped to the mirror on the inside reading, "Your dinner dress is in the bathroom," in very loopy writing. I think I can safely assume it was Anneleigh who wrote this.

The thick carpet cushions me as I walk towards the bathroom. Sure enough, there's a dress, made of the same deep blue as the pillows. That seems to a theme here. Beneath where it's hanging is a pair a sparkly silver ballet flats, a pair fingerless silver gloves, and (God forbid) a hair ribbon. I'm about to undo my dress when I realize two things. One, I am still clutching the bag with opal in it, and two, that I'll need help undoing my dress. To solve realization number one, I take the hair ribbon and thread it through the loops of the drawstring pouch, then tie it around my neck. As for two, I call the Avox girl back in. "Can you undo my dress?" I ask.

Silently the girl nods and starts to undo the tie in the back. When she's finished, she obediently waits for her next command. I don't know what else to do, so I hesitantly say, "Dismissed," and she leaves.

I slip out of my red dress and lay it across the bed, then wiggle into the blue one. It's a challenge because it's very tight and strapless. Then I put on the ballet flats and gloves and take my red hair ribbon out, letting my hair free; it almost reaches my waist. I try to dawdle, brushing my hair more than is necessary, straitening the dress, and actually putting on some makeup, but when eleven minutes have passed, I go to the dining car.

The first thing that I notice is the smell. A symphony of rare meat, many-hued fruits, unusual vegetables, bubbling soups, and delectable deserts of all types assault my nose as I enter. I take in the whole feast-laden table. If the food smells amazing, it's nothing to what it looks like. Tiny little roasted birds arranged on a platter surrounded by at least a dozen different sauces; a bowl filled with miniature versions of apples, pears, and oranges slathered in a sparkling cream; and hundreds pea-sized fish wrapped in strips of something green make up just a small fraction of the whole meal.

I take a seat next to my mentor. I reach for a bowl, but Themis whispers, "No, not yet. Jae's not here yet. We have to wait until everyone's present."

At that moment, Jae enters. He's in a midnight blue dress shirt to match my dress, black pants, and fancy black shoes. He sits directly across the table from me, next to Donovan. Anneleigh is at the head of the table. "Anneleigh will go over the schedule, and then we'll eat," says Themis softly.

"Okay everyone, if we stay on time, we should reach the Capitol by mid-afternoon tomorrow. We will then go to the Remake Center, where Opal and Jae will meet their stylist and prep team. Then it's the chariot ride, interviews, training, and then the Games begin! After dinner, we'll go watch the reapings from the other districts." Anneleigh announces too cheerfully. "Eat up, Opal, Jae. You'll need all the energy you can get!"

Once again, I grab a bowl. I fill it with the first soup that catches my attention: a thick, creamy white concoction with little chunks of fruit and nuts in it. Nervously, I sample it. To my surprise, I like it. I eat it quickly and when I finish, I look up to find everybody laughing. "You're eating like there's no tomorrow," says Jae.

"But I like it!" I defend.

"If you think this is good, wait until you taste _real_ Capitol food!" says Themis.

"Real Capitol food?" If this isn't "real" food, then I don't know what is.

"This is just the beginning. In the Capitol, table are twice this big, which equals twice as much food, and, in this case, twice as much variety," she explains. "This," Themis indicates the table, "would be considered a casual lunch in the Capitol, but in the Districts, this would be a very expensive, impractical feast."

I examine a fish wrap thing. Looking closer, it's not just fish inside the wraps, but diminutive vegetables. I can see whole carrots, less than centimeter long and ant-sized peas in there. I couldn't even think of anything like this back in Seven, so I can't even begin to dream what's in the Capitol.

Dinner finishes with a two-foot-high cake. It's divided into ten sections, and each section is a different kind of cake, filling, frosting, and decoration. I pick a slice that tastes a little bit like the cinnamon buns we'd sometimes get back home.

Then, very full, extremely happy, and way too awake, I follow everybody into a compartment to watch the reapings.


End file.
